35 years ago, on May 5th 1981, Bobby Sands died on hunger strike after
66 days without food. He was the first of 10 men to die in the H Blocks
of Long Kesh that terrible summer of 1981. For those republican
political prisoners in the H-Blocks, in Armagh Women’s prison and in
other prisons in Ireland and England there was a shared sense of grief
and anger.

For the families of those who died and for the rest of us and the tens
of thousands of ordinary citizens in Ireland and around the world who
campaigned on their behalf, this was our Easter 1916. It was a
transformative, watershed moment in our lives but also in the struggle
for Irish freedom.

To their families and comrades and supporters the hunger strikers are
heroes. They were courageous comrades who selflessly gave their lives
that others might not experience the brutality and savagery of a vicious
prison regime. And in their painful deaths, watched daily by families
and friends, and reported by a generally hostile media, they defied the
Thatcher government’s efforts to criminalise them and the struggle that
they were part of.

When it ended in October 1981 it appeared that the prisoners had lost.
But in reality that long and difficult summer resulted in a few short
years with the demands of the prisoners being met. The hunger strike
also internationalised the struggle in a way that nothing else had. It
facilitated connections with other political and liberation movements
and it saw a huge growth in the number of republican activists. It
helped accelerate the acceptance by republicans of electoralism as part
of strategy.

All of this opened up significant new opportunities, including within a
decade secret contacts with the British government and efforts by Sinn
Fein to explore the potential for a peace process.

Several years later David Beresford, the Guardian’s correspondent to the
north, published the definitive account of the hunger strike - Ten Men
Dead. David died last week and his funeral service took place on
Tuesday. He was remarkable man and an exceptional writer, author and
journalist. He arrived into the north in 1978 at a dangerous and
difficult time.

The prison protests in the H-Blocks and in Armagh women’s prison had
been going on for three years. There were some 500 protesting prisoners
and hundreds more in other prisons in Ireland and England.

The use by the British state of widespread torture in the interrogation
centres; of shoot-to-kill actions: and of collusion between state forces
and unionist paramilitaries in the killing of political opponents and
civilians was widespread. The IRA war against the British state showed
no sign of abating.

There was also a major propaganda battle taking place. Many in the
establishment media played the game. Their first port of call when
anything happened were the numerous press officers working for Britain’s
Northern Ireland Office or for the RUC or British Army. Frequently they
went no further. The British line was their line. And their editorial
bosses, whether in Belfast or London, were happy to sustain this
relationship. Censorship, official and unofficial, was deep rooted and
corrosive.

This was the north and the state of conflict into which David arrived.
From the beginning he looked beyond the official spin. he travelled
widely in the north; made a point of speaking to republicans, loyalists
and community activists, and to those directly affected by the war.

He had a healthy scepticism; was a good listener; and his writing was
insightful, informative and discerning. Occasionally I met him also to
discuss the current politics of the moment.

All of us who knew him were struck by his commitment to truthful
journalism. Consequently, when he broached the possibility of writing a
book on the hunger strike there were no objections. He was trusted to
tell an honest account of that very difficult time in our history and in
our lives. To aid him in this we gave him access to the ‘comms’ - the
messages that were smuggled out from the prison.

In the main these were written on thin tiny cigarette papers, or torn
scraps of paper from the Gideon bible that each cell had, using the
refill of biros hidden inside the bodies of the prisoners. They were
then wrapped in cling film and smuggled out.

Ten Men Dead is probably the best book written about any aspect of the
conflict in Ireland. It remains as potent a piece of journalism today as
it was when first published. It is a compelling book; impossible to put
down once you begin to read it. It is a passionate book that tugs at the
emotions. It provides a harrowing and moving account of one of the most
extraordinary events during the decades of war in the north of Ireland.

Its longevity; its’ honesty and David’s ability through his words to
empathise with those he was writing about have combined to ensure that
Ten Men Dead has never been out of print.

A few years after the hunger strike David moved back to South Africa to
record the historic changes that were taking place in that country. In
1995 I had the good fortune to meet him again in South Africa when a
Sinn Fein delegation travelled there to meet with Madiba - Nelson
Mandela - and others in the ANC leadership.

The IRA had the previous year called a cessation and we want to discuss
with the ANC their strategies, tactics and general approaches to their
peace process and the lessons for ours.

By this stage David was suffering from Parkinsons. It is an awful
disease but he faced it with courage and great dignity and wrote about
his experience. I also watched the television documentary he made
detailing the operation in 2002 to ease the symptoms.

David Beresford believed in the rights of people; in human rights. He
wanted to tell their stories in a way that would help others understand
what was happening.

As we in Ireland remember our friend Bobby Sands and his nine comrades
it is appropriate that we also remember David Beresford who shone a
light on the horrors of the H-Blocks.

Bobby was a fine writer also. A poet. From within the confines of his
prison cell, naked and brutalised he smuggled out words that resonate
today. Among them is his poem The Rhythm of Time. It applies equally to
David Beresford:

There’s an inner thing in every man,
Do you know this thing my friend?
It has withstood the blows of a million years,
And will do so to the end.
It is found in every light of hope,
It knows no bounds nor space
It has risen in red and black and white,
It is there in every race.
It lights the dark of this prison cell,
It thunders forth its might,
It is ‘the undauntable thought’, my friend,
That thought that says ‘I’m right!’

On behalf of Sinn Fein I want to extend my deepest condolences to
David’s family. To Marianna, Belinda and Norman; and Ellen and their son
Joris, and to David’s elder brother Garth. Ar dheis de go raibh a anam
dilis.

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